


You're Like A Flower

by linearoundmythoughts, Lyrae_Immortalis



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, and i think that's beautiful, casually announce really intense things because you’re an awkward nerd, ed opens the fic with a science fact, oswalds not impressed, set around 3x05/06 when everything was perfect, unlike in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linearoundmythoughts/pseuds/linearoundmythoughts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis
Summary: Noticing Oswald's rising stress levels since becoming Mayor, Ed encourages him to take a small lunch break.





	You're Like A Flower

“Did you know that 95 percent of all dietary fats are triglycerides?” Ed asked as he came to stand behind Oswald at the table.

Oswald put his pen down, looking around in confusion. Turning to face Ed, he smiled out of an ironic frustration. The nuance of that was going to be lost on Ed, luckily for Oswald…

“Loathe as I am to have to remind you, I _am_ a high school dropout who also hates the sciences. Can you just _tell me_ what your point is, or is your goal to make me guess?”

Ed straightened and held his hands behind his back. “Triglycerides play an important role in heart health; they synthesize lipids before distributing them around your body.”

Oswald frowned at him, his head shaking side to side. Not enough information then.

Reaching forward, Ed shifted Oswald's paperwork to the other side of the desk, despite his small protest. “You've been experiencing high blood pressure lately. You are stressed and I want to help. This empire shouldn't have to be run by one man alone.”

A surge of defiant anger shot through Oswald as Ed took away his paperwork but was so quickly replaced with a spike straight into _adoration_ at Ed's caring concern that Oswald couldn't help but flush all over; his suit-jacket felt stifling and he prayed his face wasn't too red. Oswald was used to his own life, to how he pushed himself, to riding the sharp waves of his own ever-changing emotional state, but he was sure he would _never_ become used to the attention Ed paid to the needs Oswald ignored so well he was at this point unaware of them.

“Th-thank you, Ed,” Oswald's flush only worsen as he felt himself so embarrassed by how easily Ed cut through his bravado, outdoing Oswald's determination with the simplest of acts. “It sounds like your intention is to make me eat something and stop working?” He smiled brightly. “I think I could be amenable to that.”

A grin spread across Ed's face as Oswald pieced together the point he had been trying to get across. Oswald continued to overwork himself as of late and Ed had been feeling particularly concerned. Although he had tried to voice this issue in the past, he was all but dismissed with a wave of Oswald's hand as he shifted through his files before barking orders at whoever would listen. Thankfully today Ed managed to break through to him. Noting the redness in Oswald's cheeks, Ed lifted a hand and ran the back of his fingers across it, feeling the subtle warmth leeching into him.

“Please join me for lunch. The world can survive without Oswald Cobblepot for half an hour.” Ed took a half step back, giving Oswald the room he required to rise. “Would you like to eat at the table, or shall I set us up someplace else?”

When Ed touched Oswald's face, the world ceased to exist for a moment outside of the brush of the back of Ed's fingers across his skin, his touch so soft and delicate. The number of clichés that were proving themselves to be true, thanks to Ed Nygma's presence in Oswald's life, was astounding and downright _unfair_.

As Ed stepped back to give him space to rise, Oswald braced both his hands on the desk so he could force himself upright. He'd been stubborn today about using his cane, but he could tell he was going to need to rely on it again. It was on the other side of the desk, and as he reached across for it, he tried to will his heart rate down. _Ed, you are one of the reasons my blood pressure might be high_ , Oswald thought in his daze.

“The world can certainly also allow _you_ a rest for _at least_ an hour, for how busy you keep yourself,” Oswald groused, trying to disguise his feelings, but he couldn’t help but crack into a smile again anyway. “For all you do for me, Ed, you deserve lunch at any of Gotham's finest establishments, but I do need to finish my work after this.”

Standing nearby, Ed gripping his wrist with his other hand, was as unreadable as ever.

A bold flash of inspiration struck Oswald, and he bent his arm, hand at his waist, offering it to Ed. “I haven't shown you the courtyard yet, have I?”

Ed looked between Oswald and the cane, internally cursing himself for not being quick enough to assist him. Oswald didn't appear to mind but Ed couldn't help but feel like he had missed a opportunity to be helpful. Oswald had given him so much, the least Ed could do was prove that he was worthy enough to be kept around. Holding his own wrist in hand, Ed scratched a nail over the ulnar protuberance as Oswald came to stand before him, speaking about various establishments before offering his arm. The action caused Ed to freeze and tilt his head until he snapped back to himself and quickly took it with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I don't need finer establishments, I just need you,” Ed's cheeks burned before he quickly added “to eat” at the end of his sentence. “Please show me the courtyard. I'd love to see it.”

Oswald's expression was one that Ed struggled to decipher, and before he could get a proper read on it, Oswald turned his head and lead them on their way.

Despite their height difference, Ed was able to loop his arm through Oswald's—well, it was more wrist-to-elbow, but it made Oswald's heart race all the same. It made him feel like they were _meant_ to walk side-by-side like this, and he smiled, casting his eyes down before stepping forward. As they walked forward, the humor in Ed's oddly-spoken sentence lodged itself in Oswald's brain awkwardly and he had to stifle a laugh. Ed wasn't the best at saying what he meant, and Oswald didn't want to seem like he was mocking him for it, when in fact, it was immensely endearing. He was starting to learn how to decipher Ed's roundabout communication style; it was bringing them closer, Oswald felt. Surely that was the explanation for Ed touching his face—just a friendly gesture! Why, that had to be the answer for Oswald's boldness in walking arm-in-arm with Ed—he, too, was only getting caught up in their growing closeness.

The courtyard was on the other side of the office windows—Oswald really needed to make more time to sit out here. He gestured for Ed to go ahead and sit down first.

“I'll tell Olga to fix us something,” Oswald said, pulling out his cell phone. “What do you want?”

Ed reluctantly let go of Oswald's arm to sit on one of the chairs as per Oswald's silent instructions. He peered down at that hand that was attached to Oswald, tracing the pattern of warmth along each crevice until his attention was drawn by the man himself when he asked what Ed wanted. Ed lifted his head and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before swallowing deeply as he gazed at Oswald. There were small white flowers— _jasmine_ —on the lattice behind him, framing his body in a floral rim. The spring breeze brought with it the flowers scent, along with the sharp undertones of Oswald's fragrant spray. The mixture easily overwhelmed Ed's senses as he took a moment to appreciate it.

Upon opening his eyes, Ed took notice of Oswald's eyes trained heavily on his face. Hands fidgeting nervously, Ed worried if he had done something wrong before he remembered he never answered Oswald's question.

“I—” Ed cleared his throat and continued, “can you decide for me?” His thoughts were hardly centered around food in this moment; no, instead they were focused in the slight wrinkle between Oswald's brows. “If it makes it any easier, I'll have whatever you are. That way Olga doesn't need to go out of her way to make two meals.”

What was  _wrong_ with Edward? He looked boggled by the simple question Oswald asked him, pushing his glasses up his nose and staring at Oswald blankly, his brown eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He was somehow both pulling and pushing on his own fingers, staring up at Oswald with that owl-ish gaze of his when his mind was caught up in some train of thought so foreign to Oswald he could never hope to keep up with it or guess at its subject.

It was actually a very _handsome_ look on Ed, even if it confused Oswald, because he couldn't decode it. Shrugging at Ed's choice to not order, Oswald made to sit down across from Ed.

Swallowing, he hit the speed dial button for Olga, and asked her to bring out a pot of tea and two tuna sandwiches. “ _No onions!_ ” he demanded, “and use mustard instead of mayonnaise this time!” It was his favorite. He kept making them as Edward's old apartment (he couldn't remember if Ed had eaten one, now that he thought about it…).

Putting his phone away, the flicker of a thought that Ed's behavior was…perhaps quite telling, and it was _Oswald_ who was being blind to it, popped into his mind. Oswald closed his eyes a moment, stilling a sigh from escaping his lips. That's just what he _wanted_ to believe, he told his ego. Still, Ed wasn't coming around. Oswald waved his hand in front of his face, snapping his fingers at the end.

“Edward,” he asked, pensively. “ _What_ are you thinking about?” he demanded. As charming as a confused Ed Nygma was, it also made him feel out of the loop, especially if Ed was plotting something.

Ed startled slightly when Oswald ripped him out of the confines of his mind. Blinking rapidly to focus his vision, Ed adjusted his coat. Thinking…what was he thinking? Oswald drew him out of his thoughts before he could get a clear read on them. Ed tried to backtrack to the point he lost himself and as his eyes shifted from the jasmine back to Oswald he blurted out, “You're like a flower,” without clear intention.

Oswald didn't appear too happy with that notion. Ed put down the narrowing of his eyes to a feeling of discontent. “I—I'm not saying you are pretty and delicate…I mean you are but I, well…” Ed trailed off and ducked his head to avoid Oswald's stare. _Why did he have to go and say that?_ Oswald was likely to think Ed a fool for comparing the most powerful man in Gotham to something as simple as a flower but the connotation held true; however, without further explanation Oswald would not understand why. Ed had become quite used to people not grasping the intended meaning behind his words: it didn't help that he stammered over them whenever the situation shifted away from what was expected.

Ed lifted his chin and gave Oswald a small smile, hoping to ease the tension between them, although inwardly his body was nothing more than a jittery mess. He was nothing like the composed Penguin. No one was.

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.” Ed's fingers tapped out a random rhythm on his leg as he gathered the strength to continue. The only thing that worked to calm the storm inside of him was found in the softening of Oswald's features as he took in his words. “You are that flower, Oswald. Although adversity brings many struggles, casualties and pain, it can also create something beautiful. Quite similar to carbon that is compressed into diamonds, the flower that blooms in winter months proves itself to be the most admired.”

Oswald crinkled his nose when Ed said he was like a _flower_. He’d heard a  myriad of comments about his stature and fashion sense across his lifetime, but this was certainly a new one. Narrowing his eyes, he cocked one eyebrow as Ed stammered through some form of clarification on the concept. Resisting the impulse to jump to a conclusion about what his best friend was implying without listening first, he still knew the stare he was boring into Ed had to be less than pleasant, based on how tight Oswald subconsciously held his jaw alone, only loosen by Ed's innocent smile, given freely despite Oswald's chilly countenance. Ed continued, remarking on Oswald's uncanny talent at overcoming adversity. It was a topic he had expounded on before; flattering Oswald was nothing new, but this was… _poetic_. Unclenching all the muscles in his face, Oswald blinked and considered Ed's words.

“Thank you,” he smiled back the water in his eyes. “That was a lovely comparison.”

Did Ed have any idea how arrestingly unguarded and soft he looked in this moment? Even sitting did nothing to erase the height difference, yet he managed to seem like he was looking up to Oswald, and not just in the metaphorical sense. Face pensive, his eyes jumped away from meeting Oswald's for more than a second.

Leaning back in his chair, he regarded Ed, despite the jackhammering of his heart. “I admire your growth as well,” Oswald admitted. It seemed like he would never be able to tell Ed that enough to be believed, but he had no problem repeating himself when it was well-earned praise. “You're really starting to blossom in your new role, free of the wretched GCPD and their waste of your talents and—” he should avoid Arkham, he pursed his lips and cringed, rebounding quickly. _Compliment something else about him_ , Oswald considered, before blurting out, “Is this why you wanted me to have lunch with you? To discuss something about…” Oswald rolled his hand in quick jerks, not sure how to finish his thought.

Ed completely relaxed at the sincere look on Oswald's face. In all his stuttered ramblings, he managed to piece together something that made Oswald happy. That was all he ever wanted to do. Oswald deserved to be happy after all his ordeals and if Ed could provide a little of that, then he would feel whole. Ed watched closely as Oswald leaned back in his chair; although he sat in nothing more than a garden chair, it didn't make him look any less regal. What a stark contrast there was between them. Ed could never hope to be so poised, it was something he had made peace with many years ago but it didn't stop him from trying to emulate the behaviors around him. After all, he had to look fitting for his station.

A smile stretched across Ed's face when Oswald continued to use his analogy to compliment him, and it stayed put until Oswald probed at the reason for their shared meal. Picking up the tail end of Oswald's sentence, Ed laughed. “To discuss flowers and adversity, no. That's not the reason.” Ed waited for Oswald to join him in his mirth but the only reaction he garnered was a tilt of Oswald head. Oh…he wanted him to elaborate.

“Well…I mean, we _can_ discuss it if that’s something you'd like to do, but the reason for this lunch is solely rooted in my desire to take care of you.” Ed licked his lips as his face heated with a blush. That was a little more candid than he planned but no less truthful. He truly did love taking care of people, Oswald in particular, as he appreciated his efforts. It made all his hard work relatively easy if he could bring a sincere smile to Oswald's face. Despite his honest sentiment, Ed wasn't sure how Oswald would take such a confession so he drew it back to a more amicable standard.

“What I mean to say is that you hired me to support you with your election _and_ new position, does that not extend to me tending to every facet of your life? If you'd rather me limit myself to a more professional level I will do so.” Ed shifted in his chair, fingers catching on the grooves of the armrests as Oswald's _unreadable_ eyes bore into him. _Was he waiting for something more?_ Ed couldn't quite tell, so he finished his ramble off with one last heartfelt sentence, praying it was the right move to make. “I just want to take care of you, Oswald.”

Oswald's life was a joke. Of course, right when Ed had made such a beautiful declaration that almost made Oswald stop breathing, Olga had to come in with the damn serving tray of food. He closed his eyes, trembling with anger at the disruption. Scowling at her, he cursed her very _existence_ for interrupting one of the only nice moments in his entire sad, exhausting _life_ , all to deliver sandwiches he had no interest in whatsoever, not with the most important person in his world sitting before him, looking out of his wits with nerves.

“That's _fine_ , I'll serve us!” he barked, yanking the tray out of her hands, dropping it with a clang, and shooing her away. Ed jumped at the commotion and Oswald cursed at himself internally for startling Ed. He'd done it a few times before and Ed's reactions concerned him.

Trying to calm himself, Oswald waged an entire war inside his mind over how to respond in a split-second of blazing internal conflict.

“Every person who has so much as laid a finger on you or shown you the slightest disrespect, I've wanted to kill. _Viciously_.” Ed still looked dazed and flushed. Oswald rubbed at his temple. Oh, could he have picked a more overly intense way to try to speak his feelings? “I want to protect you because I _cherish_ you, Ed. I…I want to take care of you, too, as more than my…support staff. Please…tell me if that's something you also have considered, because it’s something I haven’t dare let myself dream of, though I wished for it.”

Ed sat still and silent as he listened to Oswald. A myriad of emotions surged within him as he shifted through Oswald's words as though they were on a delay. Ed was shocked, never before had someone said they would kill for him…kill him yes, but not _for_ him. It was thrilling.

Before Ed could even piece together any sort of response, Oswald continued, relaying sentiments that ripped a gasp from Ed's throat and caused his heart to race.

Oswald said he _cherished_ him and that he wanted to take care of him too. How had he managed to garner the affection of the king and mayor of Gotham? The very notion was laughable if it wasn't for the earnest look in Oswald's eyes. Ed's gaze fell to the tray of food and a smile stretched across his heated face. How did a simple lunch request alter his world so quickly?

Swallowing down the lump that kept him silent, Ed spoke lowly as he began to draw an oxytocin molecule in the thin layer of dust that covered the table. “Dreams are often unattainable. I once dreamt of a life far different from this one, I wished for it desperately but it never came true.”

Reaching across the table, Ed picked up Oswald's hand and brushed his thumb across Oswald's knuckles despite the look on his face. “I'm not a dream or something to wish for. I'm your reality, so take stock in it.”

Oswald watched Ed trace some kind of pattern on the tabletop with his finger, unresponsive to Oswald's words. _Please, please let him still be my best friend_ , Oswald begged silently, unsure who he was even demanding assistance from, but desperate enough to not care. Ed explained that he wasn't living the life he'd dreamed of, his head tilted slightly to one side, eyes focused on his fingertip but the look in them still somehow far away.

So there was Oswald's answer. Being the most powerful man in Gotham, running the city with someone he _loved_ by his side, all these factors that comprised Oswald's current life _was_ his dream life. It would have been nice for his parents to still be alive, for both his legs to be undamaged, but if that would mean Ed wasn't by his side—Oswald didn't want to change a thing. His mind spun as his heart sank so quickly it left him dizzy.

Lost in his own despair, but focused on maintaining a poised dignity so it didn't show, Oswald practically lurched out of his seat when Ed took his hand in his, rubbing his thumb over Oswald's knuckles.

“Whatever I have done to earn the privilege of your company, your decision to be by my side in all of this, is my greatest accomplishment, Ed. I want you to know that. Every time I threatened you or even rejected your concern, I was—I _am_ —” he swallowed hard, and gripped Ed's hand tightly. “I've been avoiding telling you this out of cowardice, but I…” _Oh, if not now,_ when, _Oswald?_ he chastised himself. “I am in love with you, Ed. I cannot deny it any longer; to ignore it is to disrespect it. _That_ is what I take stock in.”

He bit his lips and looked Ed straight in the eyes, enjoying the softness of his face, the glow of light that Oswald swore always followed him, in case it was the last time.

Ed’s couldn’t keep his eyes off of Oswald as he spoke. It was often this way, Ed enraptured by Oswald’s emotive outbursts which switched on and off so rapidly, from loud to soft. It was a struggle to keep up but the challenge was something Ed thoroughly enjoyed. Oswald kept him on his toes: Ed could spend years by his side and would continue to be as intrigued and as enraptured as he was when he first laid eyes on him.

Without releasing the hold on Oswald’s hand, Ed stood and walked over to his side, following their connection until he was peering down at him. It was those green orbs that struck him, the color contrasting against his pale skin and pink cheeks. For the second time that day, Edward tilted his head and reached out to trace the color. Oswald skin was smoother than any silken tie and infinitely more delicate. He was the most prized flower.

“Oswald, I…” Ed shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths when his words caught in his throat. He often had trouble asking for what he wanted and although he knew Oswald would hardly ever deny him a request this seemed much more extravagant. “Can I, can we…” Ed trailed off with a nervous laugh, his free hand adjusted his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose. Ed used the sensation to ground him as the feeling of Oswald’s fingers entwined with his own set him free.

“What I mean to say, what I'm _trying_ to say is…” Biting his bottom lip, Ed crouched beside Oswald's garden chair. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he glanced up at him from beneath raised brows. “Oswald, people I have loved, people who said they loved me, were never around long. I want you to show me why those relationships failed.”

Ducking his head, Ed pressed a fleeting kiss to Oswald’s knuckles with one more request on his lips. His heart raced at the thought of voicing such a desire. Oswald said he took stock in his feelings where as Ed did his reality. Licking his lips, Ed tried not to fidget under Oswald's unblinking stare. “Oswald, Mr. Penguin, Mr. Mayor. Can you please… _kiss me_?”

The path Ed's fingers left across Oswald's skin as he caressed his cheek felt on fire; how Oswald had handled it the first time, wrote it off as some kind of misunderstood gesture on his account seemed now like a confusing fever dream. Or was this the dream? Ed's words about dreams looped through his head in a discordant, stuttering echo that Oswald couldn't focus on now for any hope or scrap of willpower. His whole world was narrowed to the places where he and Ed's skin met, gentle on his partner's side, desperately possessive on Oswald's as he looped their fingers together, hands still clasped.

Oswald stared at Ed through hooded eyes, his eyes narrowing subconsciously as he focused his gaze upon Ed, practically knelt before him, head bowed, and the tentative kiss he placed against Oswald’s knuckles.

Reaching forward to hold the back of Ed's neck, his skin softer and warmer than he even envisioned, Oswald wanted nothing more than to fulfill Ed's request—oh, if only he _knew_. Something long-repressed unlocked in Oswald in that moment, drawn forward by Ed's alluring nature, by the declaration of his desire.

“They left your life so I could have you,” Oswald rasped, voice deep, eyes drifting shut as he bent in to give Ed the tender kiss he deserved. “You were meant to be mine,” he whispered against Ed's mouth, their lips brushing as he spoke, threading his fingers in the back of Ed's hair, before kissing him as deeply as _Oswald_ wanted to, claiming him, claiming _this_ with a soul kiss, something Ed could hopefully feel the depth of, how every beat of Oswald's heart was now for _him_.

The hand that cupped Ed’s neck stole the breath from his lungs but it wasn’t until Oswald leant forward with eyes closed, did Ed truly discover what it mean to feel truly breathless. Everything was in sharp focus, the freckles on Oswald’s skin sparkled brightly, breaking through the thin layer of makeup, the redness in his cheeks appeared even more rosy and his eyelashes… Ed couldn’t even find the words to describe them. Shutting his eyes, Ed could feel his heart race as Oswald’s lips brushed his own so softly he could have sworn it was but a vivid fantasy, but then Oswald’s strong hand tugged him forward and set to rewiring him from the inside out. This wasn’t a fantasy.

Ed’s knees fell to the pavement below, trying to find steady ground, his hand…the one Oswald wasn’t holding, found itself on Oswald’s knee as he let himself be swept away by the one man who turned his world on an axis.

When their kiss ended, Ed wanted to tug Oswald forward and beg him to continue but Oswald had done too thorough a job. Ed couldn’t connect with any of his limbs, even his eyelids remained heavily closed. Oswald’s forehead pressed into Ed’s own, his warm breath fanning small whispers over Ed’s lips, then all too soon it was the rays of the rare Gotham sun beaming down on him as Oswald shifted away.

“I do believe you are right,” Ed began croakily before clearing his throat with a laugh as he _finally_ managed to open his eyes. “I am meant to be yours.”

Unable to drift from the magnetic pull between them (as if Oswald would ever _want to_ now) he returned to kissing Ed, alternating between soft brushes of his lips across Ed's jaw, to trailing a hand down Ed's chest, palm resting over his heart, as Oswald claimed him again with another searing, intimate kiss. Bending forward in his seat to get as close to Ed as he could, with Ed digging his fingers into Oswald's thigh, his hand wrapped around his knee, gasping and leaning into every kiss. Oswald planted his feet and dragged Ed closer still with a firm grip on his shoulder. Looping his free leg around Ed's back, desperate to cling to him now that he finally _had him_ , Oswald kissed Ed until they were both breathless, their world, comprised of only the two of them, spinning and sparkling in its warmth and wholeness.

Oswald cradled Ed's face in both of his hands and kissed him once more, pulling Ed's lower lip between Oswald's own lips. “Oh, _Edward_ ,” he breathed, lost for words to explain, his fingertips tracing the side of Ed's face, Ed's eyes fluttering in response as he arched into the touch. “I want you by my side in everything; I want you on my arm the rest of our lives.” Oswald rested his forehead against Ed's again, as they breathed the same air.

There was a smile on Ed's face, one he believed would never leave. How could it when Oswald, the very person that created it, was telling Ed he wanted him to remain by his side? It was almost preposterous, what could Ed give this wonderful man that he didn't already have? The answer came to Ed when Oswald brushed their noses together. Love. Love is what he could give Oswald. It was something Ed had been lacking in his life but he was willing to open himself up to the experience, to fully immerse himself in it. Ed trusted Oswald with his heart and in turn would care for Oswald's to the best of his ability.

When Oswald's hands released their hold on his cheeks and he made the move to shift back in his chair, Ed couldn’t help but shoot up and capture one last taste of Oswald’s lips before falling back onto his rear. Lolling his head to the side, Ed stared at Oswald and laughed again, unable to contain the bubbling happiness inside of him. This was perhaps the most ungraceful Oswald had ever seen him, usually Ed stood tall and rigid and yet here he was sitting on the ground with his legs sprawled out in front of him, feeling perfectly content.

“I want that too, Oswald,” Ed began as he held Oswald’s stare, hoping his words came across as genuine as they felt. “I want to be by your side and watch you rise to new heights while the city scrambles for a chance to lick at your boot.” Ed gave Oswald's foot a small tap before tucking his long legs beneath him so he could rise off the ground. “More importantly, I want to be with you.”

After giving himself a quick pat down, Ed picked up one of the sandwiches off the tray and offered it to Oswald in outstretched hands. “You need to remain strong, Mr. Penguin. We have many years ahead of us yet.”

Drunk on joy and light headed with amazement, Oswald's mind floated in the space between Ed's laugh and his quick hop into a kiss. When Ed leapt up to offer Oswald a sandwich, stressing the importance of Oswald eating, was when Oswald finally cracked into laughter, with more joy than he swore he'd ever felt in his life. Of _course_ , despite the intensity of shared emotions and the impassioned kissing their impromptu lunch had delved into, Ed would _still_ remember that he wanted Oswald to eat, for some silly scientific reason.

“Well, Ed, I trust your judgement,” he said, looking up at Ed. He couldn't help but beam at him as he spoke. Taking the sandwich in one hand, he bit into it and reached for the serving tray, pouring a cup of tea. Ed still stood before him as he handed him the cup of tea between bites. “Also, it's _'Oswald_ ,’” he reminded Ed, and the man took the cup and sat down with it. Reaching across the table to hold Ed's hand again, he rubbed Ed's skin with his thumb, the two of them smiling in the sun, a new life path unfolding before them both, one they would travel together, in love and in confidence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
